Red Relief
by LaurenAshleyMay
Summary: Hightower gets a visitor during the night...I suck at summaries. And if you actually like Hightower, don't read. ; One-shot.


A/N: For all you Hightower lovers, don't flame me. Please. If you don't like, don't read. Its as simple as that.

Agent Hightower leaned back in her leather chair and surveyed the mountains of paperwork that were slowly dwindling, but only just. She had been signing reports, reading and rereading summaries of closed cases, and examining the gruesome facts for several hours. The last employee, and the entire cleaning crew along with them, had left a couple of hours ago. Looking over at her clock, she saw that it was early in the morning - early enough that any sane person would either be passed out or high on coffee. Both of which, Hightower was not. She looked out of her open door into the dim hallway, and felt her eyes slowly drifting closed….

And her eyes jerked open at the click of her door closing. She sat forward and looked at the dark shape that was slowly moving towards the front of her desk.

"Sir, can I-"

"Mrs. Hightower, please. You don't have to act so…formal around me." a deep voice said.

"Excuse me, but it is one-thirty in the morning. If you need assistance, might I recommend the front desk…" Hightower realized that the only easy way into the heart of the CBI office included passing right by the front desk.

_Uh-oh. _She thought to herself as she tried to act naturally as she reached for her holster.

"Agent, I think you'll find that the gun you usually keep in your top drawer is unloaded, and there are no bullets available for your use." the man said. He had stopped a few feet from the edge of her desk.

She froze for a second, and then jerked her drawer open in desperation only to confirm what the man had said.

She was weaponless. Hightower reached for the phone:

"I think that you will find that calling security will do nothing for you. The guards are…busy. And, if you make one move to call the police, I promise you won't even get to dial the 9." He said, leaning forward and resting his hands on her desk. Hightower removed her hand from the phone and leaned back in her chair again. Her heart was pounding a million miles an hour, but you wouldn't be able to tell, because she kept a façade of calm that would have fooled anyone.

"Well, then, since I can't do anything else, let me ask you: what do you want?" Hightower asked.

"I have to explain everything, don't I? Well, let's go back a few weeks. I do believe that you said to the darling Agent Lisbon that whatever Jane did, she would take the blame?" He said.

"Yes, though how you know-"

"It doesn't matter how I know; but I suppose I could tell you. It's a simple thing called a mole in the CBI. But that's beside the point. Mr. Jane, I know, has unorthodox methods of solving cases, but he always succeeds. You may not agree with him on some things, but I highly doubt that Lisbon should be blamed for Mr. Jane's success."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Everything _Patrick _does brings along implications and complications that always end up in my lap and that raise hell with the political affiliates of the CBI. I'm just trying to keep the air clear."

"Air clear, indeed. You're breaking up Lisbon's team."

"If you're talking about Van Pelt and Rigsby-" Hightower began, raising a finger.

"I'm not talking about those two, though that was _such _a shame that you had to do that. They're perfect for each other." The man said. Hightower looked over at her clock and saw that she had been talking to this mysterious (and probably dangerous) stranger for a half hour.

"No, I'm talking about Jane and Lisbon and the complications that you are causing between those two. They're the perfect team, and they're perfect for the giant case file there is on me."

Hightower froze. "Oh, God. You're not…"

"There's the light bulb! Yes, I'm the man you've been hunting this entire time. I don't look like much, do I? Neither does Jane at first glance. That's why I'm so interested in him. We're so much alike- even our names are close! But, straight to the point- I can't have you breaking up the team that I've grown so attached to in these past few months."

Hightower screwed her eyes shut because she knew what was coming. Not many people, once they met the infamous Red John, lived very long after that meeting.

Later That Morning

At the CBI Office

Teresa Lisbon had found the note on her desk the moment she walked in at 7:30.

**Lisbon**

**I need to see you and Jane in my office. At eight.**

**-H**

_It was strange for her to leave a note, much less a time of meeting_, thought Lisbon. Hightower usually walked up to her and told Lisbon to get in her office with Jane pronto, or would send one of her assistants. She looked over at the comfy brown couch and saw that it was occupied by none other than the man who would inevitably get her fired.

"Jane! Up! Now! Hightower wants to talk to us." Lisbon said sternly.

"I didn't do it." he said innocently, sitting up and stretching lazily.

"I don't care if you did or didn't. Get over here so that we can get this over with."

Jane walked over to Lisbon and produced a grin that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame. The pair walked in unison towards Hightower's office. Lisbon paused in front of Hightower's door and took a deep breath to calm the irritation at both Jane and Hightower that filled her. Jane looked over at Lisbon's failed attempt to hide her distress and cursed himself inwardly. He went through the past few days in his mind- he didn't _think _that he had done anything worthy of a visit to Hightower's office.

"Here goes nothing," Lisbon muttered under her breath as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, Jane in tow.

Teresa positioned herself in front of her superior's desk and smoothed out her pant suit. She then felt Jane tugging on her sleeve like a toddler.

"Lisbon." He said in a faint voice.

"What?" She whispered. Why did he always have to act like this in front of Hightower?

Patrick raised his hand and pointed towards Hightower's desk. Lisbon saw that her superior was leaning back in her chair with her feet propped up on the desk. What made Teresa freeze was the red smiley face that had been painted on the wall above Hightower's desk.

A/N: So, how was it? Bad? Awesome? Delete it forever? Let me know! (:


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